"We hope everyone's had fun? Now it's time to announce what everyone has been waiting for," the announcer's voice rings out loud and clear into the crowd, causing a loud cheer to reverberate through into the surroundings.
"Yes, yes. It's time for the announcement of the winners! As always it was a difficult decision by the judges since there were so many talented people. We cannot emphasize how thankful we are of everyone. From the performers of course, braving their nerves to come join the event and to the spectators who are always enthusiastic. It is moments like these that make me realize what a wonderful city we live in. " There are more cheers now which echo through the area, mixed in with laughter and applause.
"Now without further ado. Let's go with third place shall we? Ladies and gentleman drumroll please...the winner for that is..."
" Yook Junjae ( @hrjunjae ) CONGRATULATIONS! As stated before you have earned yourself a trip for two to Marina Zone and our lovely aquarium. If you're still here, please come up to receive your gift." There are glances around at different seats, eyes trying to catch another glimpse at the person before they make it up onto the stage.
"Now second place goes to.... Kiyoshi Shouta ( @hrshouta ) ! COME ON UP! Treat yourself and one other to an all expense paid weekend at one of our luxury villas. We promise, you'll be seeing Hwaryung in a new light before it's all done."
After the person receives their prize, it is evident that the air is suddenly thicker with untold tension. The only thing remaining is first place, the most coveted spot and all those who were not mentioned earlier would be eligible. That meant slim chances but chances for many. Knowing so, it is easy to see how the announcer pauses for dramatic effect.
"Finally. First place. The one that everyone has been eyeing. A weekend getaway for two down to Jeju Island. It's time to enjoy the gifts of spring before the summer heat hits. Who will win it? Let's see...I heard that the votes were pretty neck to neck.....so first place we have...."
Ahn Hyemin ( @hrhyemin )! CONGRATULATIONS YOU HAVE BEEN CROWNED THE WINNER OF THE MUNICIPAL TALENT FESTIVAL.
jeon hyunbi is fickle-minded, bears a heart that goes against the supposedly innate inertia. (maybe that’s why she finds it harder, even overwhelming to inhale things that make it grow still.)
the organ has a terrible habit on leaping into foreign territories, where she’s only brave enough to taste. the savoring always lasts briefly, leaving her enough time to retrieve. (however, she does swear for some things. but, those things were objects, people and places that materialized a happiness she is usually highly attuned with. after all, that’s her most defining emotion.)
music was supposed to be that— a rowdy space she only walked into when the pit of her stomach turned into the ocean. (it usually drowns her muscles, her bones —the bones she broke and let the marrow transform to steel— and plunge somewhere unreachable.)
music makes her feel somewhat safe as it was a place she can anchor herself. there was no need to grip, to cling, to clench— she could rest even if the water caresses her ankles. (even if music made her feel a degree of happiness, she fails to commit. she only swears with a loophole because music never makes her too happy. that ordeal itself makes her reject the notion of it.)
but, she never runs away for too long. she never likes to yield. she never knows if this comes from her ingrained and battered pride or her longing to embrace the side she always leaves behind when she visits her thoughts.
(she tried to change the rules once. for once, she wanted to think music as a happy event. for once, she wanted music to define her usual persona. even if it rebelled against everything she was used to representing.
even if it was used to silence the relentless taunting of her burdening inferiority she holds fervently. even if music has only served as a bath of alcohol, waiting to disinfect away her hurt.
but, her brain is a stubborn fool.
when she performs, her tongue has a thin foil. she lathers it till it becomes numb in hopes her voice could change the own rhythm in her head. but, it never does. even if her mind was obstinate— her usually capricious heart was more and already set the tone. when it does, she surrounds.)
she thinks the festival might be a good opportunity to explore her relationship with music. she lets the thought persist, gnarl over her fingers as she writes out her name. for a moment, she wants to smear the ink with her callous palms. as if putting a blurring veil could conceal her intentions or simply erase the action done with a hint of apprehension. but, her heart is quick and sets two glass fragments on her feet to walk away.
(it was strange to rummage through her old playlists. all these songs were usually hidden from the spotlight, always covered in a sheet of silver instead of gold. as the music floods inside the yellow-colored room, her finger pauses the song she knows she wants to sing.)
she wants to tell her dear friends, but she keeps taking some steps back. the festering reluctance locks her, stitching together the usually teeth baring mouth. she is careful to not let her usual transparency stick to her expression. it was a strange act to put. it was a tantalizing type of adrenaline because it made her feel nimble. so, whenever someone speaks about the event, laughter paints over the usual spottable heart into a tint of red to depict excitement.
(home is far away always hits a sore spot, as her usually buried emotions were permitted to grow and be given a voice after being quieted down for so long. it harbored in her muscles, crystalized so she felt the ache on every move. for a long time, she never thought she would revisit this lacerated state.
but, the longer the song forms shape in her parched throat, she thinks more fondly of the hymn. she thinks these emotions were not malignant or evil— even if they tore the skin she proudly developed on those achievement filled years. even if it ebbed on the shiny confidence and left a timorous sensation as crumbs.)
she feels somewhat regretful when she stands on backstage. her eyes stick to the performers’ backs, thinking they looked too wide. for once, she thinks the height and the weight of her body were the capsules of her confidence and could only intake so much. her fingers find comfort in the hem of her dress, nitpicking the loose threads.
(she sits and lets her body be taken. in that moment, she is no longer the girl who eats and digests the sun on a daily basis. in that moment, she is the girl who takes down her usual radiance and becomes a dim version of the moon. there’s a silent wish— within that transformation, she only asks for her inner dwelling to stop.)
she forgets how spacious the stage feels. the air knocks down her working limbs and leaves carbon residue on her empty lungs. but, she still manages to walk on the stage with no notable stumbles. her knuckles gain a ghostly paleness as she takes on the microphone. there’s a shaky breath and quivering legs, but she gains a piece of courage when the music fills the stage with her. her voice turns a pale shade of blue, where melancholy instills her frame.
(her eyes are closed, feet planted on the floor. her body refuses to acknowledge the audience whose attention was on her. each word is sewed together with a memory she cried enough for. each syllable makes a silhouette in her head that creates a tale.
on that dark, seemingly gravity-defying space, she sees the young girl who swallowed and choked on her defeat. the young girl whose mind slowly wired her dreams into a routine for guaranteed success. the shadow of those emotions surfacing comfort her and let one of her battles die in the waging war. so, she only watches the girl drown as the song ends—)
once the music ends, so does the disposition she was in. the shipwreck ends as she releases her death gripping grasp. she lets color return— lets the mask of melancholy melt as if it was wax and her body was the sun. just like that, jeon hyunbi returns with ruddy cheeks as she exclaims a “thank you!” and sprints with the sunlight on her feet.
Kim Seungbin's Talent Show Performance
ㅡ PLUG IN BABY / MUSE
"The next act will be beginning shortly." Came the voice of an overworked stagehand.
Around that time of day, when the sun began to fall towards the horizon and the sky changed colors, the crowd grew weary of the hours passed. Most of the individuals didn’t give the time of day on any other occasion, but that was far from something he wasn’t used to. The concept of a talent show had not been the most tantalizing ( even with the promise of luxurious prizes, it was far from what drew him in ㅡ no, the premise of exposure did ).
Althought, Seungbin wasn’t vehemently opposed to the idea posed to him by friends and company alike. He, in fact, embraced it as a refresher of his less than satisfactory past.
( It was never enough, and it would never be enough. The succession of perceived losses proved too much to bear on his own; however, Seungbin refused to let the despair consume him. Stubbornness was the only thing keeping him tethered.
But even so, why did his knees still buckle and his breath catch? )
Memories came flooding back in feral waves to his first performance. Being booed off the stage, hands grabbing his collar, the strong odor of alcohol on their breath. The visceral sensations still lingered from all those years ago as his heart raced and his hands shook. Needless to say, performing in public again had been the farthest thing from his mind until he managed to debut.
He pressed the sole of his tattered Converse against the stand ( one he hadn’t borrowed this time ) and gently plucked the strings of his treasured guitar. He was certain its red sheen ㅡ although faded in spots of overexertion ㅡ would glow in the spotlight shining down on him. If he had it his way, he would have demanded more than the humble amplifiers provided.
To the soft lull of distant conversations of the crowd that blended together, the young man ( and the two other trainees who kindly offered their drum kit and bass with no need of compensation regardless of the end result ) began to play a warm up melody without any semblance of an introduction. His lips pressed against the microphone’s mesh cover, eyes downcast before glimpsing back to his temporary band members ㅡ a signifier that he was prepared to dive in head first.
The song abruptly began with the screech of his guitar and a powerful riff to fill the now hushed auditorium.
It would have been wrong for Seungbin to claim he didn’t feel any relation whatsoever to the song he chose. He knew he desired to belt out the repressed emotions swirling within his lungs, a musical choice the vocal coaches did not recognize when he attempted to use it for an evaluation. After countless hours of mulling over a decision, he finally came to the conclusion after listening to his standard playlist while laying in his bed. What began as a mere fantastical image of him performing something so dynamic as a Muse song on stage came closer to his dream than he ever could have imagined.
It was one that meant more to him than an enjoyable listen, a passionates song dedicated to the guitar. One of the first of many high octane rock songs that grew to quell the anger he possessed as a child. It told him to continue down the path he was on, to continue until it touched the life of someone else ㅡ even if for an entirely new purpose. The emotion behind the voice, the power behind the memorable melody some may find to be simply noise. ( And, frankly, he could not bring himself to care whether or not those in the audience possessed a fondness for rock music or not. )
He poured his soul into his voice, not bothering to make any attempts to imitate the original to every last detail. Matt Belamy certainly would have appreciated his own flair performed by this rag tag team.
I've exposed your lies, baby
The underneath no big surprise
Now it's time for changing
And cleansing everything
To forget your love
At that moment he briefly forgot about every last pair of eyes on him. The music gave way to a sudden burst of confidence. He moved from his stationary position to relieve his body of pent up physical energy.
He wanted to throw himself around on stage and drench himself in his own sweat, render his fingers unusable after playing with such intensity. Destroying himself with music seemed most ideal ㅡ though not to the extent many of the rockstars he once idolized had. He would not express such a thing out loud, either. ( God forbid he sound like a threat to himself in front of those he held dear. ) They would understand eventually; perhaps in a vastly different way once they witnessed his performance. The true Kim Seungbin.
He belted the last lines with all his might. To show what he could really do with his voice, for the times his fingers bled and his throat ached, all the times people doubted him and told him he was wasting his time pursuing his dream, everything would be worth it in the end. That he knew for certain.
Freshly dyed dirty blonde hair fell into his eyes, as unkempt and wild as he was. He pushed the fringe from his vision, finally gazing up to meet the faces of onlookers. The haze of performing surrounded his skull in a satisfying pressure that unfortunately left him unable to recognize any of his friends or family within the sea of people. ( It did not matter to terribly, as he could already imagine them gazing up at him with glimpses of pride painted on their faces. )
The smile that spread across his lips lit up his entire face ㅡ expression rare, but perhaps just this once for a strange audience and those who attended that day just to see him play. Trembling fingers grabbed onto the microphone stand so he could mumble a hurried “thank you” before giving a bow and scurrying away into the darkness of backstage.
⁖⁘⁘⁘‧‧‧‧▸His heart was pounding so hard, Shouta could almost hear the heartbeats.
He checked himself one more time in the mirror. He was wearing overalls, sneakers and a shirt in pastel colors that complimented his light hair color. He even added some glitter to his eyelids when doing his make up earlier. Shouta was all ready for his performance, but his mind wasn’t.
Shouta was really, really bad at saying “no”. He knew one day it would get him into trouble, he just didn’t know it would be so soon. When Junjae asked him to join the talent show, at first, he thought it was an invitation to just go and watch Junjae perform. In the end it meant he would be performing too.
Clutching his pink magical wand over his heart, Shouta waited anxiously for his name to be called, peeking from time to time to the crowd that was in front of the stage. Even though he was scared and regretful of his choices in life, deep inside he felt excited.
He wanted new adventures, after all. He moved to a new country to experience new things and get rid of the monotony of his life. And that performance was stepping way out of his comfort zone, which made it extremely special. It was a new adventure int he end.
With his mix of feelings tugging at his heart, he finally heard his name being called and stepped on the stage with trembling fingers and a nervous smile.
With the magical wand in one hand, the mic in the other, he faced the crowd. At that exact moment he felt anything else. It was just him, the stage, the performance he practiced for so many days and the crowd looking at him with curiosity.
When the music started, he could hear the crowd roar. He purposely chose a national favorite (probably to give him extra points), which made him smile, knowing that even if he sucks at singing and dancing, people would still have fun.
Into de New World by Girl’s Generation was his choice.
He counted the tempo in his mind, doing the dance steps while happily waving his wand to the rhythm. And when he started singing, his voice sounded stable with the words he practiced over and over.
When he reached the chorus, he could see everyone singing and dancing with him. This boosted his confidence and made him smile, singing with all his heart from that moment on.
The moment of the high note was the most important point of his performance, and he actually practiced that over and over until he lost his voice for a couple of days. Everyone on the audience seemed ready for it, and maybe because everyone was yelling at that moment, no one really noticed his high note wasn’t a proper high note, but at least his voice didn’t crack.
Shouta finished his performance without big mistakes. He probably looked clumsy, his voice probably wasn’t in the right pitch and his dance moves probably weren’t too accurate, but in the end he had fun.
He ran out of the stage with a big smile and a laughter. He succeeded, and that was everything that mattered to him.
As the final performer of the day began to pack up his instrument, Xiaohui stretched lazily, then stood up and brushed bits of grass off her pants. She had spent the afternoon sitting on a patch of grass relatively near the stage, enjoying the performances while drawing bits and pieces of her surroundings in her ever present sketchbook. But now the sun was beginning to set, orange tinting the previously bright blue sky, and the event was finished for today.
As she walked over to her bike, she paused, spotting a familiar face in the crowd. “Karin? Karin!” She waved, then, as the other girl kept walking, began to jog lightly in an attempt to catch her. A few people stared as she went past (perhaps because of her behavior, perhaps because she was yelling in Cantonese) but she ignored them and kept going until she was next to the younger girl.
“Karin!” She smiled brightly as she finally got the other’s attention. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today!”
Xiaohui sat down on the nearest bench, balancing a box of food in one hand and a drink in the other. “Okay, so I know that the whole purpose of this event is to let people show their talent, and I am looking forward to that, don’t get me wrong.” She took a sip of her drink then set it down next to her. “But I’m also really excited about the food trucks because this smells amazing.” She eagerly took a bite of her meal then paused, eyes half closed, to enjoy the flavor. After a moment, she opened them again and turned to her companion. “Yep. The taste is just as good as the smell. Try yours!”
